


For Your Entertainment

by Infinite_Infinite



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: "Your friend dragged you to this gay club I bartend at and you looked really bored", Bartender AU, Deal With It, F/F, Fluff, I called her Amy, Jane/Roman friendship, Modern AU, Patterson doesn't have a first name, SO, Smut, TW- assault, TW- harassment, Tasha/Patterson friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-17 00:56:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14177085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infinite_Infinite/pseuds/Infinite_Infinite
Summary: Patterson was bored. Tasha had dragged her to a bar she didn't recognise to dance with people she didn't care to know. But at least their cocktails were good.The bartender serving them wasn't too bad either.





	For Your Entertainment

**Author's Note:**

> Look, another fic that I'm starting that I'll take 2237591746703257 years to finish. 
> 
> But, I mean, it's Jatterson, so it's hella worth it.

Patterson was bored.

Tasha had dragged her to a gay club in the middle of New York that she couldn't pronounce the name of (Something in French?), 'Niquez Moi' or something like that. She was pretty sure it meat something explicit, but she didn't really care. She was in a bar she didn't know, listening to music she didn't care for, surrounded by people she didn't want to know, with strobe lights giving her a headache.

_"Oh come on! It'll be fun!" Zapata pleaded, tugging on Patterson's sleeve_

_She raised a brow."You and I have wildly different ideas of fun, Tash,"_

_"Ames, you haven't gotten out of the house in forever. Just come with me, please?"_

_"I have too!"_

_"Going to the corner store doesn't count as getting out of the house, Patterson,"_

Having been worn down by Tasha's pleas, Patterson had put on her "trashiest clothes"- as Tash had so crudely put it- and dragged herself to the centre of New York, best friend on one arm, swinging the other. She'd even bothered to do something with her hair- even though it was more than likely going to be pulled back into a ponytail halfway through the night. What could she say? She was a practical woman. 

She was all set for a night of dancing and drinking with her best friend. But, as per usual, Tash made off with some cute girl on the dance floor, leaving Patterson stranded at the bar, too socially awkward to go out and dance, instead, occupying her time with drinks. Of course, with every drink came a tally mark on her wrist, easily concealed with the multitude of small bracelets she never took off. Patterson was a responsible drinker... most of the time.

After three beers (all of which were drank sat at the bar), the bartender must have taken pity on her, because she started to make conversation.

The barkeep slid a brightly coloured cocktail towards Patterson with a bashful smile, resting her arms on the bar. "You looked like you could use a drink," she said simply. "It's on the house,"

Patterson looked up from where she was drawing patterns on a napkin to the woman behind the bar. She was very pretty, with doe-like green eyes and raven hair cut into a scruffy bob. Freckles were scattered across her cheeks and her nose, curling around her eyes and tumbling down her face.

Patterson dragged herself out of her staring stupor and gave the barkeep a small smile, taking the drink gratefully. "Thank you. I was here with a friend, but she's currently distracted by a cute girl somewhere on the dance floor, so, here I am,"

The dark-haired woman laughed. "At least I have someone to keep me company between orders. I'm Jane by the way," She said, extending a hand over the bar. "Jane Doe," Patterson shook it with forced ease, an awkward smile gracing her lips.

"Nice to meet you, Jane, I'm Amy. Most people just call me Patterson though," she said, allowing her hand to drop back into her lap. "Can I ask about your last name or..?"

Jane chortled. "My parents decided that calling me Jane was a stroke of comedic brilliance, and that if I were to be murdered with no form of identification, my name would still be the same," she said flatly, taking a sip of the water she kept behind the bar. Patterson chuckled, the forced laugh scratching her throat- god, why was she so fucking awkward? It was just a conversation with the cute woman behind the bar.

"To be fair, I would have done the same thing if I were in your parents' shoes," Patterson said, voice loud over the thumping music. It was some bass-heavy repetitive crap that had far too many high whiny noises in it, but it was irritatingly _catchy._

Jane shrugged. "Me too, I guess," Turning her gaze down to the watch on her wrist, she muttered something that Patterson nearly lost under the pounding music. "Hey, I'm almost done with my shift if you wanted to get out of here and go do something,"

Blushing violently under the neon lights of the club, Patterson stared down at her lap-which had become so very interesting all of a sudden- fidgeting uncomfortably.

"I um, I'm sorry but I'm not really that sort of person. I don't do um, _somethings_ , on nights out,"

Jane's jaw went slack when she realised what Patterson meant. "Oh my God I am so sorry that is in no way what I meant- at all" she blurted, hands coming up to her face in mortification. "I mean, not that you're not... y'know- I just- I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite to eat or something like that, get out of this place. Because, to be perfectly honest, this music does my head in. I swear it wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable,"

Patterson's cheeks darkened considerably more, thankfully concealed by the blaring lights all around them. "Oh, uh, sure! I mean- yeah. I don't know this part of New York, but I know I passed a Diner on my way here that apparently does really good curly fries. Does that sound okay?"

Jane nodded, turning to the other person behind the bar. "Roman! I'm clocking out. I'll see you tomorrow for set up! " she shouts, voice barely carrying across the heavy beat of the music

He waved goodbye without looking up from the drink he was mixing, smiling at her from the corner of his mouth. "Later Doe. Don't die during the night. You're the only one I can tolerate around here,"

"Right back at you, asshole,"

Jane turned back to where Patterson was sat, sending a text to Zapata saying she'd see her back at the apartment later. "I'll go and get my jacket from the back and then we'll go, yeah?"

"I'll be here," she mumbled, shoving her phone into her back pocket with something a little less than grace. She doubted Tasha would text her back until the early hours of the morning, but she didn't care. Someone knew where she was, whether they responded or not didn't really matter to Patterson at that moment. 

With a tap on her shoulder, Patterson turned to find Jane stood behind her, a leather jacket clinging to her slender frame just so. "Ready to go?" 

She nodded, getting down from the bar stool and stumbling a little bit. _What was in that drink?_

"A bit of blue curacao, some sambuca, heavy amounts of vodka," Jane answered simply. _Shit,_ had she asked that out loud? 

Either way, Patterson was a little bit more than tipsy and needed some help in walking. Jane wrapped an arm around her waist, laughing softly. "You okay there? You seem pretty unstable," 

Patterson waved off her concern, nodding lazily. "I'm fine. I'll be able to walk once I've had some greasy food and something to drink that isn't alcoholic," 

"Best find that Diner then," 

"Mmm," 

* * *

 

 

As it turned out, the Diner food wasn't as offensive as Jane thought it was going to be. She wasn't really one for fast food- pizza being the exception- but all in all, it wasn't terrible. 

The Diner itself was a mock-1950's dive, with red and white fake leather seats and laminated tables. Elvis wafted across the Diner from a rundown jukebox, and there were low-quality neon signs all around the place, reminding Jane of the lights from the club. 

Taking a sip from her milkshake, Jane turned her attention to Patterson, who was slowly but surely making her way through an impractically large plate of curly fries, making quiet conversation between bites. The two were currently playing twenty questions, sharing memories from college and embarrassing childhood memories. 

"Okay, okay, okay," Patterson started, laughing through her words, "Celebrity crush?" 

Jane hummed in consideration. "Hmm. Hard to say. Are we talking before or after coming out?" 

"I'd say... after," 

Another hum. "Christina Ochoa, hands down,"

"Yeah, I can see that. Your turn," 

"Biggest pet peeve?" Jane asked, eyebrows raised in the slightest degree.

Patterson shrugged, taking a sip of her milkshake. "I'm not sure. Do babies count?" 

Choking on her breath, Jane coughed out a laugh, hand flying to her mouth to muffle her choked giggles. She took a sip of her drink and tried to form a response. "I take it you're not a kid person?" 

"Nope," Patterson said simply, popping the 'P'. "They're loud and obnoxious and they never know what to do with their arms, and they're always sticky! They could be eating a plain cracker with nothing sticky around them, having just had a bath, and they'd still be sticky by the time they're finished! They cry a lot and require so much attention and they're just so fucking irritating. Once they're like, five or six, they become quite endearing, and from there on I can tolerate them, but Jesus Christ, babies just really piss me off," 

Jane raised one, perfectly shaped brow. "Always sticky... Sounds like the life of a bartender if I'm being perfectly honest," 

Patterson's gaze met Jane's and a smile spread across her face. "Yeah, but you have to deal with drunk people. They're practically children in their own right,"

"True, true,"

 They settled into a comfortable silence, Patterson happily munching on her fries, Jane simply sitting there, enjoying the quiet. 

"So," Patterson started, smirking devilishly, "weirdest conversation you've ever overheard?" 

Jane gulped down the mouthful of milkshake she had just taken quickly, wiping the remnants of it off of her bottom lip with her thumb and licking it off. Patterson wasn't sure why, but she found that impossibly hot. 

"It was probably as my shift finished- there was a drunk girl just outside the building with a neon feather boa on shouting loudly down the phone about how Raccoons have hands and-" 

A high pitched ringing cut her off, and Patterson groaned when she realised it was her phone. Tasha was calling her. 

"Sorry, give me just a second," Patterson quickly excused herself and walked outside, pressing her phone to her ear. "What's up, Tash?" 

"PATTYCAKE!!! HEEEEY! I LOVE YOU!!!!" 

She quickly pulled the phone away from her ear. Tash was never that loud. She was obviously very _very_ drunk. 

"Tash? Tash are you still at the club?" Patterson asked, slightly alarmed. 

"Nooooo!" she slurred, voice loud in Patterson's ear. "Nice Girl Meg is letting me stay at her place! See?! All safe!" 

Patterson rolled her eyes. "Can you put Nice Girl Meg on the phone, please?" 

Through the phone, Patterson could hear Tasha calling for 'Nice Girl Meg' from a distance- she must have pulled her phone away from her face. Shortly after, a crisp British accent pierced through the earpiece. 

"Hello?" 

"Hi! Is this- is this Nice Girl Meg?" Patterson asked, curious. 

The voice on the other side laughed. "Yeah, I'm Megan. Who is this?" 

"My name's Patterson, that very drunk girl that's with you is my best friend. Whereabouts are you?" 

Somehow, Meg managed to put a shrug into her voice. "Upper Manhattan? I think? Somewhere on the corner of 143rd and 142nd street. I was gonna let her crash on the couch at my place until she sobered up," 

Relief ran through Patterson. "Okay, well, you're about a street away from our apartment if you wanna drop her off. I can head home and take care of her. We're in the west broadway residence- flat 112," 

"Um-" Meg started, "I think I ought to take her to mine so I can keep an eye on her. I saw you take off with the bartender and I figured you wouldn't want your night cut short," 

A twang of guilt hit Patterson in the stomach. She had just abandoned her friend- who was insanely drunk- in a club she didn't know the first thing about, full of equally drunk strangers, and she hadn't even stopped to think! 

Mind, Tasha would have most likely gone home with somebody anyways and drunk-texted Patterson whenever she got the chance, leaving her on her own in a bar she didn't know, but that didn't lessen the guilt any. "I don't mind. She's usually my responsibility, but it's up to you. Just- call me on this number if anything happens, yeah?" 

"You got it," 

"Thanks, Megan. I've uh- I ought to get back, I've been out for a while. Let me know when she's somewhere safe," 

"Okay. Goodbye, Patterson," 

"Bye Megan," 

Patterson hung up and breathed out a heavy sigh, shoving her phone into her pocket. She could see why Tasha had called her Nice Girl Meg. "Okay- Back inside to the insanely hot bartender waiting for me-" 

She turned around on the ball of her foot, only to come face to face with a large man that had been stood behind her. He had a long, greasy beard that reeked of oil and stale beer, and his ripped jacket and frayed jeans emitted an _unkempt_ vibe. He smiled creepily, and the stench of burger made Patterson want to gag.

"Hey there, Darlin'," he drawled, his voice making her skin crawl. She shuddered. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing out here all alone?" 

Patterson stammered for a response, unsure of what to say. "I-uh- I was just taking a call. I'm gonna head back inside now," She stuttered, trying to sidestep the beefy man. He had a beer gut and a southern accent (seriously? In new york?) and Patterson really just wanted to get as far away from him as possible. He grabbed her by the arm, grinning almost toothlessly. 

"Oh come on, why don't we have a little fun?" 

"Um- I- I should really be getting back to my friend-" 

He tightened his grip on her, stubby fingers digging in. They were going to leave bruises, for sure. She held back a yelp. "What's the rush?" he asked, clearly not going to let her go. "Come on, I'll show you some real fun," 

She tried to wrench her arm out of his grip, to no avail. "Let me go-" 

"We're gonna have a great time, sweetcheeks- jus' you an' me," 

"No! Let me go!" 

He tightened his grip again, making her cry out. "You're not goin' nowhere. Now get in the truck," he demanded, jerking his head to the dirty-splotched truck parked behind him. 

"Let go of me!" 

"Get in the truck!" 

He went to yank her towards the disgusting vehicle, when a blur of black slammed down onto his shoulder, making him yowl in pain. He let go of Patterson's arm, staggering forwards. Behind him stood Jane, scowling. 

"I believe I the lady said to let go," she growled, teeth gritted. 

The trucker grinned, baring all of his teeth. "Stay out of this, bitch," he spat. He swung at Jane, but she easily caught the punch, twisting his arm around so fast Patterson thought she heard something between a snap and a crack. The greasy man cried out in pain, falling to his knees and clutching at his arm, which was bent at a strange angle. 

"You- you stupid bitch! You've broken my arm!" 

"Dislocated it, actually," Jane retorted, voice all matter-of-factly. "Maybe that'll teach you not to grab women who don't want anything to do with you." 

The trucker grumbled under his breath. "I'll- I'll-" 

"You'll what? Kill me? Report me for assault? I'm sure we've got a pretty good case. I wonder what the sentence is for aggravated assault and attempted rape," Jane crouched down so that she was face to face with the man, her eyebrows furrowed. "Touch anyone like that again and I will hunt you down and castrate you. Got it?" 

The man nodded weakly and scampered off, running to his truck and reversing haphazardly out of the parking lot. Slowly, Jane turned to Patterson. 

"Are you okay?" 

Patterson threw herself at Jane, wrapping her bruised arms around her midriff. Jane froze, arms suspended in the air. 

"Thank you, Jane," Patterson whispered, voice barely audible. Jane relaxed, gently hugging the blonde back. "Why were you even out here? I thought you were at the table,  

"You were a while on the phone and you looked a little frazzled-did you know you pinch your nose when you're stressed? - anyway I came out to check on you, and then Creepers McGee showed up and the rest of it you know," 

Patterson looked up at her, a quizzical expression resting on her features. "You just broke that dudes arm." 

"I dislocated it, actual-" 

Patterson waved her off. "n-n-no, that's not what's important here. How the hell did you do that? It looked so  _easy_ , "

Jane, a little embarrassed, chuckled sheepishly. "I'll tell you about it some other time. I think there's been enough excitement for one evening. Want me to walk you home?" 

* * *

 

The walk back to Patterson's apartment was unfairly short, filled with mindless chatter- mainly on Janes part. Patterson was too shaken up to really talk that much but she liked listening to the bartender- she found it strangely calming. Patterson drew to a stop outside her building, glancing up at the large block of flats. 

"This is me," she said quietly. Jane almost looked disappointed, those large doe eyes downcast. Patterson continued. "Thank you, for a great evening. And for saving me when things went not so great," 

Jane smiled a shy smile. "I'm just your everyday hero," she chuckled. Patterson laughed too. 

"...Do you... do you wanna come up for a coffee or something?" 

Jane shook her head slowly. "oh, uh, no, thanks. I- I wouldn't want to be an inconvenience, I-" 

"-Oh come on, it's the least I can do for you. You didn't get to finish your milkshake because of that asshole in the parking lot," 

Jane shook her head again. "I think I'm just gonna head home. But it was nice meeting you, Patterson. Thank you for a better night than I would have had if I hadn't have met you," 

Patterson looked down at her feet. "Okay, well, Goodnight then," 

"Goodnight," Jane smiled softly. Patterson turned and walked into her building, waving as she headed towards the revolving door. Jane turned on her heels and started to walk away, head too full of thoughts for her to notice the voice calling out for her. 

"Jane! Wait!" Patterson was running after her, breath fogging up against the cold night. 

Jane looked confused. "Patterson? I-" 

"Give me your hand," she said quickly, holding her out palm-up. Jane slowly obliged, one eyebrow raised. 

"Oookay? Can I ask wh-" 

Patterson pulled out the sharpie she always kept in her pocket and took the lid off with her teeth, scrawling something down on the back of her hand with the black pen. When Jane looked down she saw it was a number, signed off with a simple 

_" Call me- Patterson ;)"_

"Text me, yeah?" 

Jane nodded dumbly, and Patterson grinned. Leaning up on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to Jane's cheek, giggling slightly when she turned bright red. 

"Goodnight, Jane," she said softly, turning around and walking away, heading back into her apartment building. 

"Goodnight, Patterson,"


End file.
